Crazy Creatures of Mossflower
by Paths Crossing
Summary: A talk show that the squirrelmaid Milfoil hosts... or TRIES to host... With her annoying friend, the mousemaid Aster. REVISED! Now has actual plot picking up in chapter seven.
1. ASTER!

_A/N: For those of you who have read the version of this story I had up before, I took that down due to a few problems pointed out to me by Oreramar, and have changed to make it better._

_I do not own Redwall. Aster the mousemaid and Milfoil the squirrelmaid are mine._

A bored audience sat idly in front of a stage, curtains still down. The sound of a scuffle could be distinctly heard, but nobeast paid it any attention.

"Down, down! Evil!"

"Security! What are you doing?! Get over here!

_BANG! SMASH! THUD!_

"Owwww…"

The curtains came up unexpectedly, to reveal a rather distraught squirrelmaid and her security team attempting to restrain a group of squirrels and keep them in their seats. Seeing the curtains had risen, the squirrelmaid leapt up and shouted toward the side of the stage

"ASTER!!"

A small giggle came from over by the curtain rope, and a young mousemaid promptly ran into view.

"Yes, O magnificent I-can-never-keep-control-of-my-guests?"

"Hey, it's not called "Crazy Creatures of Mossflower" for nothing." Then, seeming to forget what she was going to say, she turned towards the audience.

"Um… Hello, and welcome to the first episode of.."

"BOOOOOOOOO!"

Some rotten fruit was thrown, (where they got that, I'll never know, but I'll lay the blame on a certain mousemaid.) but they completely missed their target, as there was nothing there for them to hit. They audience looked around in confusion.

"ASTER!!"

The voice came from a large hole in the center of the stage, right where the squirrelmaid had been standing.

"Yes, O great Milfoil?"

"Cut the sarcasm." She said as she climbed out of the hole. "I thought I TOLD you to have the stage fixed!"

Aster smiled innocently "Oh, dear, it must have slipped my mind. Don't worry, I'm sure nothing else can go wrong."

As those words left her mouth, a large amount of paperclips rained from the ceiling onto Milfoil.

"Hey! So _that's_ where my paperclips went!" Yelled some random security badger.

"ASTER!!"

"Dear, dear, you seem a bit stressed lately, why don't you go lie down?" Said Aster to a VERY irritate squirrelmaid.

Putting on a false smile, Milfoil said. "Oh, no I don't think I'll risk it, who _knows_ what you've put into that couch.

Aster attempted to look hurt "Me? _Moi_? Why, dear friend, what ever caused you to think such a thing?"

At that moment, the audience started up a chant "We paid our dough! We want a show! We paid our.."

"SHUUUUTTT UUUUUPPP!!"

At that moment, the hole in the floor seemed to shift position, and milfoil fell in again.

"ASTER!!"

_A/N: End chapter one of the revised version! Hope you like it better (And if you never read the original, eh, good.)_


	2. Wakka and the TimeSpace continuum

_A/N: Due to a review, the Gawtrybe will be reappearing in this chapter, focusing mostly on their leader._

_Wakka: Gulp_

_Me: Bwahahahahahahah!!_

_Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, I don't own Redwall, Milfoil and Aster are mine._

Milfoil was just about to scream something at Aster about "magical moving holes" when a certain unfortunate squirrel, who will be victim to the authoress' random imagination, ran on stage screaming about how he wanted to be a lumberjack.

Every head turned to him, with a slow creak noise, and he blinked and seemed to come to his senses, but they immediately changed their minds when he began to yell to the sky…

"Curse you evil authoress! I was going to have a normal life!"

At that moment, a very large piece of wood hit him on the head, but he was only out for two seconds because the authoress has a lot more she wants to do to him.

Wakka seemed to suddenly regain his will to be a lumberjack, and grabbed a buzz saw out of nowhere and began to saw up the wood while humming the lumberjack song.

Wakka sawed away for hours, but to keep the audience, the authoress is going to destroy the time/space continuum and say it was only five minutes.

Aster shook her head. "Honestly, I think the real person is crazier than Milfoil, and that's saying a lot.

"I heard that!" Yelled both the authoress and Milfoil at the same time.

Back to Wakka…

It seemed Wakka had abandoned being a lumberjack, to be schoolteacher instead, as he was currently trying to get all the paperclips from the last chapter to add two plus two.

"After me class, two plus two is four."

Silence.

"Two plus two is four.

More silence.

Wakka went on like this for two days, but since the authoress had already destroyed the time/space continuum and had no intention of bringing it back soon, it was only two minutes.

"Two plus two is four."

Due to Wakka's ranting two plus two is four, the audience and unfortunate hosts now had number signs flashing before their eyes, while the authoress sat back from the computer and laughed insanely at her own insanity.

At that moment, a change seemed to come over Wakka, and he reverted to his normal state (Well, mostly… he was still ranting about being a lumberjack, the authoress just can't drop it!)

At that moment, the audience seemed to decide it was time to use all the rotten fruit they had left from chapter one, and began bombarding Wakka with it.

Suddenly, the rest of the Gawtrybe rushed en mass into the theater, and, copying everyone else, began to throw things at Wakka. One tried to through the coffee machine, and was attacked by one of the security guards, who, as 

The authoress forgot to mention in chapter one, had an irrational obsession with coffee, but like things could get any weirder in the theater.

"Die evil, coffee-stealing squirrel!!"

The rest of the security team dog piled them, but as this chapter is supposed to be about Wakka, the authoress shall keep her attention focused there.

Wakka found himself in an unfortunate situation, being hit with rotten fruit and bad insults from every side.

The authoress, meanwhile, was sitting back with popcorn and watching the show.

Wakka went down, yelling, "Curse the evil mind of a 13 year-old!"

Then, for absolutely no reason, Milfoil yelled, "ASTER!!"

_A/N: I must give some of the credit to this chapter to Kelaiah, because I got the idea for the lumberjack song form his fic. "Martin's Greatest Challenge so Far", and the idea to meddle with Wakka seemingly normal life. Oh, and don't worry Wakka, you'll be in the next chapter._

_Wakka: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

_BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! _


	3. YES! YIPPIE!

_A/N: I finally have another idea! BWHAHAHAHAHAH!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall, or any canon characters, I do however, own the any OCs, Milfoil, Aster, and security._

The theater was a jumble of fighting creatures, who had turned on each other for absoballylutley no reason WHATSOEVER, when all of a sudden, it all stopped, everybeast was in their rightful seat, the Gawtrybe was gone, and the theater was perfectly clean (Even the hole in the stage from the first chapter was gone, as were the paperclips.)

"No!" Cried Wakka "My CLASS! And they never even learned what two plus two is! Boohoohoo!"

Besides that, they only thing that was not quite right in the theater was the fact that Aster was crouched against the wall, obsessively reading "The Two Towers" like she would never stop.

"Uhhhhh…." Said Milfoil.

"Uhhhhh…." Said Wakka.

"Uhhhhh…." Said security.

"Uhhhhh…." Said the audience.

"Yes! YES, YES, YES, YIPPIE!" cried Aster for seemingly no reason (we must assume it has something to do with "The Two Towers"

The authoress yawned and drank some water.

At that moment, The Gawtrybe came pouring back into the studio, because the authoress had destroyed the time _and_ space continuum, allowing her to bring people from wherever she wanted.

Then they disappeared again.

And nobody cared.

Meanwhile, Aster was still hoping around the stage yelling "YES" or "YIPPIE" for reasons as yet unknown and likely never to be known.

The authoress yawned. Then she had a very good, very_ evil_ idea…

This story needed a plotline, so why not give it one?

She laughed insanely as she typed the words that would spell doom for all her characters.

With a flash of glorious light, two figures appeared on the stage that struck fear into the hearts of the bravest audience member…

For there on the stage….

Were two Mary-Sues.

_A/N: Dundundun… Mary-Sues! What will our heroes do now?_

_Milfoil: Run for our lives._

_Aster: YES, YES, YIPPIIIEEE!!_

_So, what did you think?_


	4. Bob!

_A/N: I'm baaack! Oh, yeah I should probably mention that this will be the last chapter I get up for a while, I've got relatives visiting and then I'm going on vacation, don't worry, I'll try to make the cliffhanger good evil laugh_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall, or anything else recognizable. I do own Milfoil, Aster, security, any OCs, and, unfortunately, the Sues. Bleck._

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Cried everybeast in the the theater.

"YES, YES, YES, YIPPIIIIIEEEE!"

Need I say who said that?

I thought not.

After the audience was done effectively knocking themselves unconscious from lack of oxygen, Aster was done letting the whole world and beyond know that she was happy, and Milfoil was done trying to kill herself with the microphone, the theater calmed down, or at least got as calm as one could possibly be with Sues in your midst.

Ooookaay… I swear the audience didn't have machine guns when they came in, and Aster couldn't have given them those, she's a little… off balance.

"YES, YES, YES, YIPPIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

Yeah.

The Sues, who were extremely annoyed at being ignored, were unfortunately taking advantage of the fact that the authoress had destroyed the time/space continuum, and bringing in more of their Sue-y friends.

That's when everybeast noticed them.

"AUGGGHHH! EVACUATE!!"

There was a collective rush to the door, which immediately became so jam-packed that nobeast could get out.

Darn.

The theater isn't going to survive much longer, everybeast there was trying to bring it down with whatever they could get their paws on.

Needless to say, thanks to the authoress, they won't be getting out anytime soon.

"YES, YES, YES, YIPPIE!!"

Aster has officially cracked.

Wakka, mwanwhile, had found another class. The security peoples coffee beans! Oh, happy day!

"Four plus four is eight."

Silence.

"Four plus four is eight."

More silence.

"Four plus four…"

"Is eight!"

Meet Bob, the amazing talking coffee bean!

"Hi people I'm Bob!"

At that moment, the Sues began to advance…

A/N: Well, bye for now… Seeya around… next month! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!


	5. Muse

_A/N: … 'Tis a miracle. An update. Shall wonders never cease? _

_The disclaimer from all previous chapters apply to this one, too._

Chaos reigned supreme in the theater. Audience members fruitlessly pounding on doors - which had mysteriously sealed themselves and become suddenly protected in what seemed to be steel – in a futile attempt to escape. The Sues in approximately the center of the large room standing about looking beautiful, strong, amazing, gorgeous, heroic, pitiable, vengeful, et cetra, et cetra. Milfoil frantically screaming into her microphone in a desperate attempt to restore order – er… let's just say she's not doing an amazingly good job. Aster being well… normal… for Aster.

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE…."

And the authoress who couldn't care less what was going on around her, because her nose was so far buried in her 'The Fellowship of the Ring' – for the second time - that it was highly likely she wouldn't notice if a nuclear bomb went off.

Speaking of which…

_KABOOM!_

Just kidding.

There was, however, something that had managed the extraordinary feat of wrenching her senses back to reality. It was none other than…

…a fly.

"AIIIIEEEE, DIE WRETCHED SPAWN OF THE FIREY PITS OF THE NETHERWORLD!!!!!"

Ahem. So, as you can most likely see, I, the authoress's muse, will be taking over the chapter.

It is, in my opinion a change for the better.

"I HEARD THAT!"

Which brings me to the rather odd fact that there are currently around three embodiments of the authoress in the theater, myself, the authoress, and Milfoil. Wonder If I can exercise control over all….

Aw, phooey. Foiled again.

Ah well, even a muse can be mistaken.

If you're wondering what form I take, it is usually either a flickering, white, humanoid shape, or her cat. Except when she's being hyperactive or overly cute.

Back to the story.

Anywhoo, the lead Sue, the blue-black-furred mouse, Ravenwing Amaria I'alaraka, Shinginglight Oarile Skychild, let her glistening ice-sapphire, sky-colored eyes travel the strange room. Her delicate yet strong paw had gone instinctively to the bejeweled hilt of her elven-foot, diamond sword, Deathsinger, when she found herself in the mysterious area.

A ploy, perhaps, conjured by her swore enemy, the Dark Vezalix Zelazaro, to capture and kill her, the Chosen One of the myths, the only living being capable of even raising a paw to defy him. Her midnight-blue, starkissed fur was cris-crossed with battle scars (which somehow only served to make her more beautiful) had endured many battles, her slim form clad in the brown tunic and darker brown vest, along with a navy-midnight-ocean blue skirt, which had long served as her only armor, patched in many places, yet flawless.

Let's get back to what she's actually _doing_, okay?

The Sue had taken to captives, a strange, uncivilized, savage squirrel, apparently calling himself Wakka, and an equally odd bean-like thing, calling itself Bob. She had not much luck in wrenching information from them, and now she turned to her last resort, letting a sparkling, crstaline tear slide from her perfect eye to gain their pity...

Alright, enough of the Sue-ness. I suppose I'm going to have to figure out someway to save them, aren't I?

"Oi, Paths! Get over here!"

"DIE WRETCHED DEMONS… Can't, Muse, we've got a fly infestation!"

"We've got a SUE infestation!"

"VERMIN! WORMS! FILTH-SPAWENED MAGGOTS!"

I somehow get the feeling she won't be helping anytime soon…

I'm going to have to do this myself, I believe.

And somehow, I think I'll be doing the next chapter.

_A/N: Alright, I've wrestled the keyboard from Muse, and I'm back, for the closing author's note. Yep, Muse will be doing the next chapter, and probably all the others. That embodiment of me writes so much better._

_Muse: Well done, human, you have finally accepted the obvious._

_Me: … I can take away that privilege…_

_Oh, things should be back to normal (was there ever one?) In the theater soon. Give it two or so chapters._

_Muse: *mutters* Humans… they're just too random._

_Me: I heard that! I'm only near sighted, not hard of hearing. And glasses are annoying. Need to be washed too much._

_Reviews make people happy, did you know that?_


	6. Of Flies and Sues

_A/N: My office assistant kitty is cute. :)_

_The disclaimer still stands._

Ahem.

Soooo… you remember how I said I was going to try to save Wakka and Bob? Yeah. Well, usually to do that, you need a plan. Now, me being a muse, you would probably expect me to have a plan. Ummmm…

I got nothing.

Well, besides the fact that it would most likely be possible for me to…

"TRASH-RIDDEN VERMIN! EVIL PESTS WHO'S ORIGIN LIES IN THE VERY BOWELS IF THE DEEPEST FLAMING PITS OF SOUL-SUCKING MONSTERS!!! CURSE YOU, PLIGHT OF THE EARTH !!!!! RETURN TO YOUR WICKED HOME!! OR, IN OTHER WORDS, DIE!!!!!!! "

…. As amusing and crazy as her rant may be, the authoress has given me an idea. That's strange, I'M supposed to give HER ideas. I _do _hope she hasn't killed all those flies yet.

"MUSE!!! GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME KILL THE REST OF THESE TEN-THOUSAND VILE BEINGS!!!! HA! FALL BEFORE THE MIGHT OF MY NEWSPAPER, SCUM!!!!"

_SWIPE SWIPE_

"ROAR!"

"Sorry, Paths, I can't help you. As a matter of fact, I'm going to have to lock you that closet while I capture these flies."

And I don't think flies should roar.

"WHAT?!?!?!?!!? NO!!! THE FLIES ARE _MINE _TO KILL, MINE!!!! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, I AM YOUR CREATOR!!!!"

"Unfortunately."

"HEY!! YOU WILL..!"

"Sorry about the gag, but I know the deal. Blah, blah, blah, I'll pay for this indignity, blah, blah, blah, face my wrath, blah, blah, blah."

"ERGGHHH! HMMF HMMF HMMMMF!!"

Ah, gag speech. Never was a scholar of it myself, but roughly translated, this probably means, "DO YOU DARE MOCK ME?!?!?!?!?!"

Alright, now that my slightly… overreacting… authoress is locked up good and tight…

*BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG*

But, alas, not silently.

Anywho, I shall now get to the annoying business of capturing the flies. And believe me, the authoress wasn't exaggerating their number.

And capturing flies is harder than it looks. Crafty pests…

"Oi! Get back 'ere, buzzy nuisances!"

Ah, at last, flies are captured. Garlic stolen from the kitchen, give a bit of mold from that old broccoli no one ate, perhaps a slight bit of mud, and we've got Sue bombs, made to order.

I got the mud from Aster, by the way. I am not, however, going to ask her where SHE got it from, because I really don't think I want to know.

"Um… Miss weird glowing person?"

"What do you want?"

The sloppy-looking vermin soldier standing at the door cowers slightly under the mighty power of my awesome I'm-an-annoyed-muse-don't-mess-with-me-or-I-might-just-have-my-authoress-turn-you-into-pondscum glare.

"Errr, Cap'n Clogg, Cluny the Scourge, Gabool the Wild, Swartt Sixclaw, Queen Tsarmina, Princess Kurda, Slagar the Slaver, the Marlfoxes, Ublaz Madeyes, and Badrang the Tyrant tell you that if you don't open the doors and let them out this instant, they're storming this loft and killing you."

"Alright, a few things. One, I'm a muse, they can't kill me 'cause my authoress made it so. Two, I can't open the door, only the authoress of this story can, and she is currently being kept in an undisclosed location. Three, they're not high on my priorities list, so even if I could open the door, I wouldn't. Now shoo."

Ah, vermin. They can be so daft.

Now, on with my plan.

First, set the clumps of med/slime/garlic in strategic locations around the theater.

(Translation: Chuck them at the Sues.)

Next, release the now-bent-to-my-will-flies.

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FLY, MY MINIONS, FLY!"

Then, sit back and enjoy the show while the Sues are tormented, until activation of the inter-dimensional transporter, sending them to a harmless region between dimensions which they may shape to their whim.

(Translation: Will self-annihilate in under week.)

And finally, release the authoress and allow her to restore order to the theater, setting the guests back where they should be, Milfoil and Aster back on the stage, bringing back those insane security beasts upon which she insists, and giving Bob and Wakka front row seats.

Well… the theater's as normal as it ever was…

"Gawtrybe fight! Gawtrybe fight! Gawtrybe Fight!"

"Welcome back to the (continued) first episode of Crazy Creatures of Mossflower, you already know me, your host, Milfoil, my helper, Aster…

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEH…"

*BEEP*

"NOT THE RED BUTTON!!"

*CRACK*

And with Milfoil falling into the hole in the stage, I, Muse, bring this chapter to a close."

"MWAHAHAHAHAH!"

"ASTER"

"C'mon, already, get this show moving, we're dying out here!"

"Four times five is…"

"Twenty!"

Err… for the most part.

_A/N: Hey, that's the longest chapter I've wrote! YAY!_

_Now, Bob, what did I tell you about invading the reviews._

_Bob: Not to do it, or you'll turn me to pondscum._

_Me: Correct_.


	7. The Beginning of the End

_A/N: Well, will you look at that. I'm not dead! Haha, I was bored one day and Muse has been bugging me ever since I found an old drawing I did of her, so I'm back, and the show that never actually goes on will continue to well… go on. In a way. Sense. Thingamajiga._

_**OH AND READ THIS CAUSE I'M NOT TELLING YOU IN THE ACTUAL STORY – THE POV FROM WHICH THIS IS NARRATED HAS CHANGED AGAIN. IT'S NOW GEN-U-INE THIRD PERSON OMNESCIENT, PEOPLES. But Muse is still the main-ish character.**_

_Welcome to Chapter Seven, my friends, better known as the beginning of the end._

"I. Am a bloody. Flickering. Humanoid-shaped. Light. Bloody flickering humanoid-shaped lights. Do not. Get the common cold."

At least, that's what Muse was telling herself, sitting alone on the stage of a sad-looking empty theater, flickering feet propped up on the dusty surface of the desk in front of her. The swivel chair in which she sat squeaked softly as she rocked it back and forth, tapping her fingers on the armrest impatiently and staring at a laptop screen. A pile of used and re-used tissues had built up around her, spilling out of the wire wastebasket perched precariously between the desk and a hole in the stage floor. As she watched, bored, a few of the tissues fell from the wastebasket into the hole.

Muse turned her face to the ceiling, yelling and pointing one flickering had up towards the sky, talking to someone who wasn't there. "This is all YOUR FAULT YOU KNOW! You stupid authoress, you bloody forgot I EXISTED! Criminal negligence, that's what this is! NEGLIGENCE!"

Muse's angry, shrieking voice resounded through the dark theater, bouncing back from the faded walls with their peeling paint and the torn upholstery of the chairs. The theater really was a sad place now. After a few weeks, even Bob had left to find someplace else to go. "Anywhere's better than hanging around this deserted place waiting for something to happen." He'd said.

"Heh. I should've gone with them, when they left…" Muse said to herself, tapping out a sentence on her laptop, snorting in frustration, and deleting it. She leaned forward to the desk, grabbed yet another tissue and blew her nose loudly. "Geezes, I'm a bloody MUSE and even I can't come up with any ideas to write life into THIS place. Lost cause."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, if I were you."

Muse jumped, knocking the tissues off the desk in her haste to get her feet down and sending her laptop crashing loudly to the wooden stage floor. She whipped around, the poor abused chair screaming in protest at the sudden motion. "YOU!" She yelled angrily, pointing one pale pulsating finger at the intruder.

"Me." Said the newcomer with a smirk. Unlike Muse, the newcomer didn't give off her own light, nor have a flickering insubstantial form. But there definitely was some similarity, if only in the atmosphere they both exuded. The newcomer was leaning casually against the wall behind the dust-laden, moth-eaten curtain, tossing an old black microphone up and down easily. Her skin and hair were unnaturally pale, both practically snow white. The eyes she turned on Muse were also pale, such a light blue as to be almost not a color. They were wide and had a distinct look of madness to them – maybe because of the bags underneath them, or dark ring that went around the lower lid. And though the intruder wasn't her own personal light source, she made up for it by wearing obscenely bright, neon, I-will-burn-your-retinas-out colors of green and orange mixed together. A bright green hoodie, neon orange jeans and green sneakers with orange laces, she resembled some kind of mutated, insane citrus fruit.

"What do YOU want, Lime?" Muse asked coldly.

"Me? Nothing. Just to not be here." The newcomer, Lime, said with a smirk, taking the microphone, weighting it, then chucking it as far as she could across the theater. She gave a little satisfied smile when it landed. "Ooh, row twenty, I'm improving."

"If you don't want to be here, than why ARE you here?" Muse asked, blowing her nose for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Because, Muse, our beloved authoress saw fit to send me to pay you a visit."

"Oh, how kind of her. I'm so very flattered." Muse's icy voice was literally dripping sarcasm.

Lime gave her another crooked grin, shoving her pale hands in her pockets and ambling across the stage. She stopped at the hole and looked down into it. "How exactly did this get here?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.

"I really don't know. You'd have to ask Aster."

Suddenly Lime perked up, clapping her hands together. "Oh, right! Aster! Now I remember!"

"Remember what." Again. Nose blowing. Stupid common cold.

Lime grinned a wide, Cheshire cat grin. "I'm here as a convenient plot device to deliver you a message. The show must go on!" She exclaimed, striking a dramatic pose and casting her hands to the sky.

Muse stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Lime's grin faltered and she lowered her hands. "Well?" She asked.

"Well what?"

"You're the muse for these situations. It's your job to get the show on."

"Tch!" Muse said, and swiveled away from Lime, facing the back wall of the stage. "That ship sailed a long time ago. Two or so YEARS, actually."

"But… but… but…" Lime stuttered, her cheerful demeanor taking a blow. What was wrong with Muse? Muse used to be so nice. "Two years is ages! C'mon, Muse, I know you! I bet you must have hundreds – thousands – of ideas cramped up in that glowy little head of yours!" Crossing the floor to the chair, Lime knocked her knuckles on the top of Muse's somewhat-there somewhat-not head none to gently.

"Ow! Lime, cut it out!" Muse yelled, swatting her hand away. "I don't care about that stupid little story anymore, okay? So leave me alone."

Lime backed off, looking hurt. "But Muse… You're a muse."

"Pssh! That's easy for YOU to say. YOU'RE the original fiction muse. YOU'VE been plenty busy. I'm just the fan fiction Muse."

"But… You helped me Muse. I wouldn't be a muse without you."

Muse blew her nose again and threw the used tissue over her shoulder. It fluttered to the ground at Lime's feet. "Yeah, well, you are. So I'm not needed anymore."

Lime thought for a moment, and then her smirk slowly returned. "Actually, Muse… you are."

"Oh really? Please, do tell."

Lime grinned wickedly. "Dear Paths still wants reviews and feedback. I can't provide them. YOU can."

For a while, Muse said nothing. Then, slowly, with one long creak her chair turned around. Her eyes- slightly brighter spots in her glowing face- locked with Lime's. "You're telling me… that Paths is still a reviewwhore?"

"Yup."

"ASTER!"

"The resounding clatter of pots and pans and the shrieking of an irritated squirrel maid rang through the kitchen of Redwall abbey.

"Uh… Hehehehehe?" Aster said with a sheepish grin, peeking out from beneath the tumbled-down bowls. Her face was streaked with dough, flour, and frosting – frosting which Milfoil had labored over for the better part of an hour that afternoon, preparing it for her cake. It had taken her ages to get it perfect.

And now, thanks to one stupid, bumbling mousemaid, that was ruined."

Milfoil sighed, wiping her paws off on a dishrag and helping Aster up. "Uh… sorry about that Millie… I couldn't resist, the frosting looked so good."

Milfoil sighed. "Yes, well, I guess it was only a matter of time before something went wrong. It's not every day I have to prepare the feature dessert for the Abbott's biggest feast this YEAR, because the REGULAR cook went and got sick so of COURSE with MY luck, it'd fall to ME…" She mumbled to herself, bustling around and cleaning up, taking the catastrophe in a stride and preparing to start all over again. It was hard to stay mad at Aster. And Milfoil knew Aster couldn't help it, it was in her nature to be an annoying klutz. In fact, Aster was the only one who'd really managed to learn nothing since they'd relocated from the studio to the Abbey, after Milfoil had finally given up on her show. They'd settled in well at the Abbey, even the vermin who'd worked the set had found someplace they fit in.

_'It's not like the ABBEY isn't different from what it should be.' _She thought to herself. _'There's people from ALL of the books here, all at the same time, and nobody thinks it's weird at all. I guess they wouldn't. The studio was weirder.'_

Really, the only difference at the Abbey was the lack of Muse, the authoress, and random things appearing from nowhere due to convenient holes in the space/time continuum. In fact, things had stopped turning up out of nowhere only a few weeks after they'd arrived. All the paperclips – which Aster had brought, for some strange reason – disappeared too. The only really weird thing left from the studio…

"FOUR PLUS FOUR EQUALS EIGHT!"

…was Bob, the amazing talking coffee bean.

"Yes, Bob, we KNOW already. Now please tell me the first ingredient I need for the frosting." Milfoil said with a sigh, setting down a bowl by where the little coffee bean lay atop an open cookbook, next to the recipe.

"Oh, uh… you need some butter."

"Thank you, Bob." Milfoil said.

Aster dragged a stool over and sat down, watching Milfoil cook. "Hey, did you know that Wakka tried to cut down one of the oldest apple trees in the orchard yesterday? It took both Martins, Matthias, AND Mattimeo to drag him off. He had a lumberjack relapse."

Milfoil snickered. "Oh, really? Where is he now?"

"They're keeping him locked in a solitary, interior, windowless room in the infirmary 'for his own safety', until the relapse passes."

"Well, I hope he's out by tomorrow. We wouldn't him to miss the feast."

"Yeah, where else would find someone psycho enough to declare war on Salamandastron because one of the hares ate the last piece of peach pie?" Aster snickered, munching on a candied chestnut.

"Yeah, I know, right?" Milfoil, laughed, turning to go get some sugar…

…only to find that there was some on the table, right in front of her.

Where there had previously been no sugar.

"Uhh, Aster? Did you see where that came from?"

"Huh? Where what…?" She turned around, and saw the sugar Milfoil was pointing at. "Whoa. That's weird…"

"Bob, did you…Bob?" Milfoil turned to ask the coffee bean if he knew (she couldn't really say seen, because Bob had no eyes, but somehow he always knew exactly what was going on just as if he had eyes, ears, and a nose.) where the sugar came from.

Only there was a problem.

The coffee bean wasn't there.

"Bob? BOB? Where'd you go? Bob?"

Milfoil was looking around frantically, but the coffee bean was nowhere to be seen. Aster, however, was frozen in shock, staring at the doorway. She tugged on Milfoil's sleeve.

"Uuh, Millie…"

"Aster, BOB'S GONE! HE'S GONE!"

"Millie…"

"Oh, no, what if he disappeared like the paper clips? He was ALIVE! It's not FAIR, they can't just take-"

"Millie…"

"WHAT? WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU DON'T CARE THAT BOB IS GOOONE?" The squirrelmaid screeched, rounding on Aster.

Aster just pointed to the door.

"Millie, we have a visitor."

Slowly, cautiously, afraid of what she might see, Milfoil turned around.

"I'm flattered you were so worried about me, Milfoil, but really, I'm fine!" Bob called from the doorway. "And wasn't it nice of her, she gave you the sugar you were looking for, after all this time…"

Bob was indeed fine. He was sitting in a hand – not a paw, a hand, a glowing, flickering hand – attached to a glowing, flickering figure leaning casually in the doorway.

"Oh, no…" Milfoil breathed.

"Heeeey, Millie!" Aren't you glad to see me?" Muse called cheerily, waving a flickering hand.

Milfoil moaned and dropped her face into her paws. "My life. It just got a whole lot weirder, didn't it?" She asked.

"Yup." Muse responded cheerfully. And when she looked up, Milfoil could've sworn that somehow, with her indistinct features, Muse was grinning a Cheshire smirk.

_A/N:And that's where it ends for now, folks! Please review, Kay? It'd make me veeeery happy. _

_Sorry for the lack of my former random humor, but I think this little fic is going to take a more serious turn in the future. I have an idea, something epic and possibly dark, possibly involving Mary Sues, brewing in my mind. There'll still be humor, it'll just be more grim and less random ZOMG!11!1!LOLOLOLOLOLOL humor._

_So, MUSE, LIME, MILFOIL, ASTER, AND BOB THE COFFEE BEAN ALL BELONG TO ME KAY? Everything else is the intellectual property of the amazing Brian Jaques._


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